All This Time
by Docnerd89
Summary: Set in the first episode of season 4. What if Rick didn't instantly accept Kate's explanation on the swings? For Fels. Hope I did it justice, and gave you something you might like a little.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is a song fic, based on "All this time", by OneRepublic

I chose to go AU, from _Rise_ when Kate goes to the book signing. What if he needed a moment to think?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Castle. Whaaaa?

* * *

For Fels, who loves this song, and who loves Caskett. Always, and beyond.

* * *

_Six on the second hand till new year's resolutions_  
_There's just no question what this man should do_  
_Take all the time lost, all the days that I cost_  
_Take what I took and give it back to you_

xXx

Kate had told him, without telling him, just what she wanted. Maybe what she needed. Sitting on the swings in the playground, she explained it to him. She couldn't be the person she wanted to be, and couldn't have the sort of relationship that she wanted till she got closure. The 'with you, Castle' went unspoken. But she thought that he might have understood. His steady gaze bore through hers. The subtext was merely an illusion, wasn't it? When he could read her so plainly?

Kate hoped he could read her. Figure her out. Because it took her damn well long enough. She held her breath when he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came. He closed up, looked away, jaw set. She cast her eyes to the ground below them, and held on tightly to the chain suspending the swing she sat on. A gentle breeze caused them to sway the slightest bit, and she looked back up at him, silent and thoughtful. His hair had flopped over his forehead, and she held tighter still to keep from combing it back with her fingers. Because she knew she wouldn't stop at that. She knew that would lead her to caressing his face, gentling away the lines that she'd no doubt helped put on there. She'd do that and then regret it, because as much as she wanted to be at that place? Not there yet, Kate. So she looked away.

Finally he spoke, "I need some time to think about it, Kate."

She fought the sting in her eyes, and nodded. He deserved that.

Time.

He deserved so much more. This was something she could give him. Time, just as he gave her over the last three months. He's asking for it, and she thinks he's being generous. That he's considering it at all; means the world to her. All the time that she's cost him; cost them; cost the possibility of them. All the opportunities they've wasted between the two of them. It could have been easier. Though, maybe it wouldn't have been right. It wouldn't have been the right time. Maybe now it can be. She hopes so. He's asking for time? It's a small price to pay.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, Castle."

"Okay," he whispered back and nodded.

"What now?"

"Now, you head back to your job, and I head back to mine," he said, nodding to the store they just came from.

She couldn't stop herself from wincing. She had come to think of him as a permanent fixture at the precinct. In her job, and in her life. Taken him for granted. Castle will always be there. Always. And so when he said 'your job', she hoped that _that_ wasn't his final answer. That it was just a way of saying that he needed to think on it. He did have to finish his book signing. She did have to get back to the precinct; her break was almost up.

They sat in silence for another minute. In silence, they rose and prepared to part ways. But before they did, just as silently, he took her right hand in his. To the world, it would have looked like they were shaking hands. He moved his thumb over her wrist, like a caress. But she knew, and so did he, that he sought confirmation. He needed to feel her warmth, to feel her pulse; to really believe that she was in front of him. Rick's eyes held hers, as their hands lingered for just a moment too long to be a casual gesture. He let out a breath, like he was holding it in anticipation. As if he didn't dare to believe his eyes, his ears; but he could believe his sense of touch. He pulled her closer, and she came. Without hesitation, she came into his space, so familiar, so safe. Close enough to hug, close enough to kiss. She turned her head a fraction, enough to feel the warmth of his skin. He turned his, enough to feel her breath on his face. And he took a deep breath. The breath that she'd stolen when she fell, breathless in his arms.

He pulled back. She heard his faint murmur of, "I'll call you", and opened her eyes to watch him turn around and walk away. "I'll wait," she said softly in return.

* * *

_All this time we were waiting for each other,  
All this time I was waiting for you_  
_We got all these words, can't waste them on another  
So I'm straight in a straight line, running back to you_

_I don't know what day it is; I had to check the paper  
I don't know the city, but it isn't home_  
_But you say I'm lucky, to love something that loves me  
But I'm torn as I could be, wherever I roam_

xXx

Rick was torn. Between being angry and being relieved. He wanted to laugh, and wanted to cry. He'd been so worried. Didn't know where she was. Didn't know how she was. Didn't know whose she was. He thought that she'd be with Josh, still. Hoped, though it hurt his heart, that she would be with someone who could give her what he longed to. In a way, he felt bad that she didn't have that someone. She did have her father. In a way, a burden lifted, knowing that maybe – just maybe, she was his.

He was torn. The decision of whether he should walk away, to avoid the possibility of being hurt more than he already was. Walk away? Or walk to her. It wasn't like he'd be walking into her waiting arms. Not like it would all fall into place within minutes. Not like they'd have the kind of relationship he wants, or she wants. The kind of relationship she may want. She wasn't exactly clear about that, although _his_ mind is saying, clearly, she meant him. Who else could it mean, when she looks at _him_ like that? Who else could it mean, when she'd just broken up the steady, considerably long, serious (or so he assumed) relationship? Who else could it mean, when she came looking for him? Through her pride, and through his hurt, she came looking for him.

His pride, and his bruised heart kept him from telling her that he'd been waiting for it. Secretly, or – probably not so secretly, been miserable with it. Been pathetically lost in his mind. Lost in the past that he couldn't change, and in the words that he could. Kate Beckett, he couldn't do anything about. Nikki Heat? At least she was his. Without a doubt. Maybe, just maybe; he'd been wrong. Kate Beckett …

He'd been waiting for her, hoping she would call. Hoping she would come to him. She did. He sat up straight, knowing what he had to do. He'd written those books based on her. He'd written them knowing she would read them. So when he'd been writing them, consciously, or subconsciously, he'd written them _for her_. Words were his life. He'd given his words to her.

He wasn't torn anymore. A little bit of heartache, for the possibility of a lifetime of love? Seemed like a fair bargain. Whether she was his or not, why fight it when he knew he was hers?

He left the loft, decision made.

* * *

_Oh, every time is so far. It's just so far.  
To get back to where you are_  
_All this time, we were waiting for each other.  
All this time I was waiting for you_

xXx

She recognized the knock on her door, stupid as that sounds. Knew whom it belonged to, before it even ended. She had to restrain herself from bounding to the door, as if she'd been doing nothing but waiting for that knock.

Realistically, she thought it would have taken him longer. Perhaps not the amount of time it took her. Perhaps more, and she thought she might have deserved it. She shouldn't have been waiting for him the very same day he asked for time. But… Who was she kidding? She was.

She opened the door, without bothering to look through peep hole, without bothering to ask who it was. It might have been stupid. Given that she was just shot and all. But she knew who it was.

She stepped aside to let Castle in. Couldn't read his face, one way or another; and it scared her. Closing the door behind him, she took a breath to gather some nerve, and turned around to face him, gasping because he was closer than she'd thought. Just a foot or so from her. She stood with her back touching the door, barricading him on the inside. Or barricading herself.

"Kate," he started, "Three months of silence from you. It was torture." His eyes reflected just how hard it must have been.

She nodded. "It was." She didn't mean just for him. It was torture to her, too.

"And I don't know what you expected when you came back today," he continued, "whether you thought that I'd just forgotten and moved on, or that I was done with you, or that I was waiting for you with bated breath…"

"Castle," she went to interrupt, because she didn't know. She didn't know if he'd forgotten, or moved on from her. She didn't think that, because it was hard to even consider it for a second. But maybe – maybe she should've considered it. That she may have broken them.

"I was," he said firmly.

"What?" Her mind was on a tangent. Preparing for the worst. She'd told him once, long ago, that he didn't know her. He knew her better than most everyone. Sometimes, he knew her better than she did herself. She liked to think she knew him. This was a scenario she had hoped for, but didn't dare think of actually happening.

He moved closer, just inches of space left between them. "You have this annoying habit of stealing my breath, Beckett. It's frustrating." His left hand supported his weight on the door, and his right hand landed on her waist. Held on with a firm grip; a confidence that surprised her. "Absolutely maddening. About time you showed up."

Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. "Does that mean – what does that mean?" She asked with her brows furrowed.

He grinned. "It means, that you should probably think of a way to award me for my saint like patience. But, considering that you've been patient with me over the years, I might consider us even."

"You – I – what?" she said in further confusion.

"Although, if you _really_ think about it, you found me annoying for a short while. Eventually you found me adorable, and oddly endearing. Not to mention ruggedly handsome."

"Castle –" She was having a hard enough time concentrating with his hand on her waist, and him all up in her space.

"Are we going in to work tomorrow or what?" he asked with grin, and a good amount of finality.

At that, she smiled back. A smile that he'd never seen before. A smile that she thought, maybe she hadn't ever smiled before. Just as quickly though, it fell off her face.

"Kate? What's wrong? Isn't that what you wanted?" He said, looking almost sad again.

She grabbed the lapel of his jacket suddenly. "Yes. Yeah, of course. But –"

"But?"

"I hadn't really thought about how… I mean, I thought Gates wasn't letting you back," she said.

He grinned smugly. "Pfft. Small fish. I'm not at the precinct because there was no reason for me to be there."

Kate bit her lip, and smiled up at him. "Yeah?" She stroked her fingers over his jacket.

"Yup," Rick replied, his thumb moving over her shirt. "Nothing that a quick call to the Mayor's office won't fix. You giving me a reason, Kate?"

"A _really_ good one," she said with her eye brow raised, looking for all the world like his Kate Beckett. The one he was waiting for.

"And what might that be?"

"Research," she shrugged.

It took him by surprise, but he should've known she'd be cheeky. He laughed in delight, love rushing through his veins, warming his heart; even more so when she laughed along with him. It trailed off, leaving a glow on both their faces, as he rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. She closed hers too.

"Tomorrow?"

She nudged his nose with hers. "Tomorrow."

He moved back, his hand lingering the slightest bit before he drew it back, and she moved to let him leave. Because she knew, after all this time, that tomorrow would be another day. Another small part of their always.

* * *

**A/N**

Eh. I try not to get sappy. Ineffectually.

Also, sorry for any horridly obvious errors. I kind of smashed this out, but didn't have time to go over it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Fruit of your efforts of persuasion.

* * *

Chapter 2

"It's nothing."

"Your hand was shaking. That's not nothing."

He could see that she was falling down the rabbit hole again, and it was a quick descent. One that scared him. She didn't see it. She was blinded by it. The darkness engulfing her as she fell deeper in the hole.

"Okay, then let's go," Castle said decidedly, smiling at her.

She was thrown off track by his sudden change in mood. "Huh?"

"Let's go, detective. Chop, chop."

"Uh. Go where, Castle?" she asked in apprehension. There were alarm bells ringing in her head. Combine serious talk, with a sudden change in Castle's mood and demeanor, _and_ a look of sheer determination? Cause for alarm.

"Remy's. Of course."

"Of course," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Good. Glad you understand. Let's go," he said, getting up himself and looking at her expectantly.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't understand, Castle. We have work to do."

"Well, your hand was trembling. But since you're _fine_. Fine, fine, not _fine_-fine, although, you're also _that_ kind of fine," he said, adding an eyebrow wiggle for considerable measure.

"Castle!"

"Hypoglycemia! Plus, you could use a few more pounds. As happy as I am to provide you with my abundant body heat, say we have another freezer situation, mark my words, Beckett. You'll be thanking me."

She gasped in indignation. "You're trying to get me to eat, now?"

"Sure. In case I can't reach that goal, I'm trying to get you to let _me_ eat. I may _seem_ perfect, Beckett; what with my dashing persona, smashing charm, devilish good looks; not to .."

She cleared her throat, but he ignored her.

"..not to mention my immense knowledge of the world of murder and mayhem, my deep understanding of human psychology, and…"

"Castle. The point?"

"I was getting to it. But, hmmm."

"But hmm?"

"That's what I just said. But, hmmmm. It's interesting, I notice you didn't try to refute any of those things."

She crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows, completely forgetting that she was not fine, but saying she was fine, hoping that saying enough it would make it true, or at least true enough that he would believe it. Also, the word fine was really beginning to lose its meaning. "You know I like a good work of fiction, Castle. That was rather – entertaining."

"Thank you, thank you. Anyway, stop distracting me –", he said while raising his hand and shaking his head as she opened her mouth, probably to tell him off, "The point is, I'm only human, Beckett. Though I seem like a Greek God, at times. I'm hungry. I _need_ to eat."

Kate dropped her arms, slightly in shock, slightly at a loss of knowing what to do about the absurd turns this conversation was taking. Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, she asked, "Has Martha been experimenting at home, and using you as a guinea pig?"

He gave a comically fake shudder. "God no! If that were the case, I'd be asleep in bed, in my room. Or at least, in the bathroom, in my room. Hopefully in my room. Maybe on the kitchen floor. Or.."

"I get the picture, thanks," she said flatly.

"So?" he asked, looking like the picture of innocence.

"Fine, Castle, let's go. But you had better hurry up. Jeez. Such a baby," came her grumbling murmur of defeat.

He'd already taken four large steps by the time she said 'let's go', but stopped abruptly at the end of her sentence. Might as well enjoy the sweet victory by rubbing it in, right? He wiped the smirk off his face, and tried to look innocently stunned. "Did – Kate Beckett! Did you just address me as your 'baby'? Why, I never!"

"What? No! I didn't – not baby. A baby. As in an infant."

"Uhuh. Uhuh. I don't believe you," he said with a smug grin, walking on, hoping she'd follow.

"I don't care what – oh. You're pulling my leg." She was following.

"Am not, but I'd be happy to. It's a lovely leg," he picked up the pace.

She huffed. "Are too."

"You're welcome, Beckett's legs," he said, turning back and pointedly looking at her legs that were quickly catching up with him.

Her faint blush was just a bonus. Not too long after, they were enjoying lunch at Remy's.

* * *

Rod Halsted didn't do her blood pressure any good. Her blood pressure was probably fine. His arteries might be well on their way to long term damage by now. It was hard enough to get her to forget about her problems for a while. He'd have to do it again, because that damn rabbit hole was a black hole; sucking her in with a force so strong that he'd begun praying to the Jedi Gods.

Watching her break down the night before was hard. At least he could be there for her. It pained him though, to know that she might have had a few – or several of those – alone over the past three months, wherever she was. When she shakily stated that everyone had gone, had been taken from her life; he broke his resolve of giving her the distance she thought she craved. He'd gotten up from his seat, and made his way towards her. She took a couple of steps back, retreating physically. Retreating mentally. But he wouldn't let her. He held her steadfastly, his hands spanning her waist, pulling her towards him. Her arms were folded, and she tried in vain to resist him, but he didn't give up. He just stood there, with his hands on her waist. Not even pulling her in. She uncrossed her arms slowly, but closed her eyes and looked away, as if horrified with herself that she was giving in. But she did. Give in, that is. Her arms crept from under his, across his back, as she moved more completely into him, and she turned her face into his shoulder and took several deep breaths. He'd held her till they evened out. Held her till she could stand to hold herself, and then quietly, he left.

It was bad enough that Mr. Smith had somehow materialized into their story. Though he'd told his mother, and later his daughter, in no uncertain terms, that this secret would not be reaching Beckett anytime soon, he was apprehensive. He was still puzzling out what best to do about it. For the time being, it seemed like putting it aside, keeping it from her was the logical step. Telling her all of it _now_? That would be like pushing her over a cliff. No. Now wasn't the right time.

_Now_ as he stood, holding their coffees in his hands, watching from afar, he gave a sigh of deep longing, coupled with sadness. It was a sad little sigh. Manning up to Kate Beckett was always a task. But if anyone could do it, Rick Castle could. Sometimes what it needed was a direct approach.

He took in a deep breath, squared his shoulders and went for it. Handing her a cup of coffee – always helpful, to whatever degree, when it comes to Beckett – he sat down, prepared to face the worst.

She gave him a tight lipped smile, and made fleeting eye contact. It was probably a subconscious effort to avoid talking about the breakdown.

"Do you remember what you told me the first time I brought up your mother's case?" he asked her. "That if you got started again, you wouldn't stop. You said it would probably destroy you –"

She cut him off, like he'd expected her to. "Yeah well, I didn't have any leads then," she said nonchalantly. Matter of fact-ly.

He didn't miss the way she said '_I' _instead of '_we'_. Yeah, well, he could state matter of fact just as well. "We don't have any now."

"Look, Castle, I got a little – emotional – last night," she said, still unable to hold his eyes for long. And then those words again. "I'm fine."

He hated those words. Also hated what he had to say, but he had to say it. "No, you're not. And you _know_ you're not." He could see that he was getting through to her, whether she'd admit as much or not. "You're back here three days, you're already in a free fall. I'm not telling you to walk away. I'm just saying –" he paused, wording it correctly, "- give it time. You know, just until you get your bearings again."

The look in her eyes broke his heart. Even more. "How am I supposed to get my bearings when someone out there wants me dead?" she asked softly.

"By not letting them rob you of your life." She looked away, disbelieving. "I promise you, we will figure this out. We'll find them, and we're going to make them pay," he said confidently, and after a beat added, "Just not today."

Finally she looked like she was considering it. Reluctantly, but even so, it was better than nothing. She raised her head, but not her eyes, and said, "Castle, if I don't do this, I don't know who I am." She finally did look him in the eyes.

If she needed him to tell her, then he would. A thousand times over. "You're who you always were. You're the one who honors the victims. You're the one who can bring Sonia's family some peace."

Finally, finally it looked like she might just consider believing him. Trusting his faith in her.

And so she so got up, and called out to Esposito and Ryan, asking about their current case. The case she had so far been completely out of touch with, because she was blind to everything else. She realized the extent of it when Ryan and Esposito looked clearly surprised that she wanted to know what was going on. It was as if Castle had taken of a blindfold.

* * *

Within a couple of minutes of giving it some thought, they'd come up with a theory. Soon after that, they'd come up with a suspect. A suspect that led her, once more, to face the fear that had stubbornly taken root in her. "Don't…don't _move_," she fumbled, as she cornered him, his gun trained on her. His hand shaking, making it all the more dangerous.

She inched slowly towards him. Looking both like predator and prey. But Castle was right there with behind her. He had her back. He didn't tell her to wait for the boys. Didn't yell, and didn't panic. Didn't run the other way, either away from danger, or towards Esposito or Ryan who would be safer than her, or so she thought in those couple of moments. No.

Instead he stood behind her, bolstering her with courage. "Easy Kate," he said in a low, quiet, confident voice.

The suspect, sounding scared himself, half pleaded, "I just need you to let me go."

Castle kept on. "Easy, you've got this."

It's all she heard.

"You've got this."

And then she did have it. She could almost feel it growing inside her. Remembering the years of experience, skill and training; aided by the knowledge that she wasn't alone. That Ryan and Esposito were on their way. That Castle was right there with her, and she needed to be there too. Be there to protect him, and to protect his trust in her.

She said in a low, completely even voice. "You don't want to do this, Mitch." She moved towards him, more confident in her steps. "Because I will have to put you down." She said it like she believed it. She did, and she could see that Mitch did too. "You understand?" He shook violently, his resolve crumbling before them.

"Put the gun down," she said slowly, forcefully.

Those few moments, and what seemed like a horrible long winded period before it, finally boiled down to this. The suspect was under custody. The case solved.

She had this. Because she had Castle.

She thanked him for having her back. Putting her mother's case aside wasn't enough. But like she'd told him, it was enough for now. He was right. She had to honor the victims. Had to be the person who wouldn't give up, wouldn't not care. Wouldn't let another young Katie lose everything. Because that young Katie might not be as lucky as her. To have someone pull down those walls. To have Castle.

* * *

A/N: Yay, or nay?

P.S. Fels, your encouragement and ridiculous amount love for this story blew my mind. Thank you.


End file.
